Fate Liberty
by Convergence-Eternal
Summary: When the West Virginia Warlock Coven finally gets tired of the Mage's association bragging about their "Holy Grail War", seven innocent by standers are dragged into a war beyond their comprehension. Includes O.C.'s as main characters, and minor cannon defilement.
1. Opportunity

Not everyone has opportunity, not every one can be privileged, and for some people life just really, really sucks. Christopher Dejesus was one of those people, or one of those young adults to be exact. Well he liked to think of himself as a young adult. He was actually only twelve. But young adult sounds a lot better then tween, don't you think?

He wasn't one of the truly unfortunate. His family had Internet, dial up. They had a computer, from 2001. He even had enough to eat, although he had to make his own breakfast. His mother was always grumpy in the mornings. So it wasn't really worth waking her up. His father, his father was somewhere.

All in all life was pretty good to Christopher. Minus the fact he had six younger siblings that he had to take care of. Most of them were brats and those that weren't had yet to achieve sentience. So their merit as individuals was neither here nor there. Oh, and did his younger siblings know how to pick fights with people bigger then they were.

Bigger then they were, older then they were, and all of his siblings expected Chris to fight their battles for them. Last week Chris was punched in the kidneys by some twenty-year-old low life. Apparently one of Chris's younger siblings had stolen money from him. How, what, why?

Chris was your average middle schooler and he was already missing his eight of his front teeth. Sure Chris was big for his age, but big for his age meant he was about 5'6. Well being 5'6 and 180 doesn't mean squat when your younger siblings have irked just about every ne'er do well in your entire hometown.

Yeah, life was tough for Chris. What he didn't realize was, it was about to get a whole lot worse.

It all started when he was walking home from school one day and was cornered by some thugs. Then his history book fell out of his backpack, then he some how summoned Jack Kennedy. Don't ask, just don't ask, he doesn't remember what happened and as far as he was concerned it didn't happen.

Then later on that night when he was sleeping at a friend's house, he saw a something glittering through a crack in the closet. He was curious. He went to closet. Next thing he knew a tentacle shot out and wrapped around his mouth. That didn't happen either. Though it was a mystery to him and his friend how a "wet dream" could cause you to wake up covered in slime.

What was certain is he would never, ever live any of this down. It gets worse, oh it gets worse, and what a shame that next week was his thirteenth birthday.


	2. Night to Day

Today was an ordinary day at school. Except people kept on complementing Chris on his sweet tattoo. A tattoo on his left hand, a tattoo he didn't remember getting. Then again he was choosing not to remember a lot of things recently. Besides it was just a silly tattoo. How much trouble could it possibly get him into?

Any way when Chris finally did get home he was entreated to a nice bit of peace and quiet. That is how he knew something was terribly, terribly wrong. You don't get peace and quiet with six siblings. If you got peace, it usually meant they were planning something or some one had died. If things got quiet then it mean they were all sick, sleeping or dead.

His whole body tensed and he froze. All he could hear was his own short breaths. Well, that and the door locking behind him. He turned around slowly, ever so slowly. Chris instantly wished he hadn't. There was a creepy girl holding a knife between him and the door.

"You're going to die . . ."

His palms were sweating, something warm was running down his leg, and he was going to need a new pair of pants.

"You're going to die, unless you accept my help"

The girl sheathed her blade and offered a hand to Chris. Oops, looks like she broke him. Did she come off too strong?

" Where's my family?"

Ah, he wasn't broken. He was merely afraid for his loved ones. Perhaps it wasn't too late to make a good first impression after all.

"There was a note on the table. They went to . . . go to your grand parents"

The boy looked heart broken. Oh no, oh no, did she say something wrong? Was he upset at being left alone? Did he know what it felt like to be alone too?

The girl walked forwards and gave him a big hug. The boy didn't reciprocate, but he didn't fight it either. "Listen", she said softly, " I know this can't be easy for you, but we have to go"

They hugged for like three minutes, it was awkward.

"Do I even know you?", asked Chris.

"I should probably let go of you now, shouldn't I?"

"Yes"

"I guess I should also probably explain what's going on"

"That would be appreciated"

The assassin, err I mean guest, let go of Chris. Not that he was the first boy she had ever hugged. Not that she liked it. This proves nothing!

"Well, you see we have accidently gotten ourselves mixed up in a Holy Grail war"

"Really?"

"No, that would be ridiculous. What actually happened is we got ourselves stuck in a rip off of the Holy Grail war. A rip off put together by people who don't now the first thing about true magic"

"How do you know all this?"

"I tortured a tentacle monster for information"

"Okay"

"Don't worry, I didn't kill him. Would you like me to introduce you two?"

"No thanks"

Then the two enterprising heroes just stared at each other. Until little miss know it all opened her mouth again.

"There is one more thing you must know. Once we get to my secret base, I call top bunk!"

"No fair"

"You snooze, you lose big boy"

"But I haven't slept in days"


	3. It is wonderful

Sometimes things don't quite work out the way you expect, some times the lord works in mysterious ways and we can find beauty in the most inconspicuous of places. Even when the depths are all around us and we are swallowed into the murky abyss, aid will come to those who ask.

The thing is Chris wasn't cast into the depths. Chris was in a bunker right now. A bunker well supplied with any thing one might need to survive the apocalypse. It had food, ammunition, and piles and piles of loli rape doujinshi.

Chris had never seen anything like it before. This place must have had enough supplies to last a hundred years, and yet it only had one bunk bed.

Sitting cross-legged victoriously on top of said bunk bed was the only reason Chris was still alive. As well as the reason why he might not see his family for a long, long time.

She gave a little half smile and beckoned him forward. He stayed right were he bloody well was.

"You can ask me any thing you like", she offered.

"Oh, that's good. Because I was really wondering about all of the-"

"Anything but that", she amended.

"Okay . . . could you tell me about the Holy Grail war then"

"Seven servant's, seven masters, one winner. The winner gets one wish. The servant's are historical figures and the masters are supposed to be mages. But this is not that grail war. Something has gone terribly, terribly wrong"

"Wrong how?"

"First off we're not mages. Second off, all the recent major Holy Grail wars have taken place in Japan. The exception is a botched attempt that took place in California, which is probably how the idiots who are throwing this one got their idea"

"Wait a second, if we're masters then where are our servants?"

"Avenger, show yourself", she screamed.

A large man wearing a nineteenth centaury suit appeared, His beard was pretty nice.

She then crossed her arms and said, "I've shown you mine, now you show me yours"

Chris twiddled his thumbs nervously.

"You don't have one, do you?"

He nodded.

"Well, this is gonna suck.", she mumbled.

"Any ways, you should get some sleep. If you'd like I could snuggle with you to keep you warm"

He didn't like where this was going.

"My snuggles are simply to die for", she informed him with a wolfish grin on her face.

He really didn't like where this is going.

"I'm fine thanks", he blurted out.

"Oh, okay. Good night then.", she said dejectedly.

She then laid her head upon her pillow fell asleep. Shortly after Chris went to bed as well. It was pretty hard falling asleep with a big dude staring out you and a slasher in the bunk above you, but he some how managed it.

Chris woke up in the middle of the night. Some one was in his bunk. With her arms wrapped around him in a death grip, this was not good.

Chris woke up again several hours later. She was gone. Before Chris could thank his good fortune he noticed something rather odd. The servant who was staring at him all night was gone as well. What could this mean? Then a tentacle came out from underneath Chris's bed. History was about to repeat itself.

For the second time this week, Chris woke up covered in . . . something.

Yet some how it was different this time. Something about it was, special. As of this morning he was now thirteen years old.


	4. The Raging Storm

In a humble church by the seaside there lived an old man. Seasons changed, people died, families left, and the old man stayed. The old man felt lonely. He loved the lord, he loved carrying out the lord's work, and yet he still felt so cold.

He was never alone. The lord was with him always. He felt so much love within him, and yet there was no one to share that love with. No wayward sheep in need of a Shepard, no great works of faith to be done, all that was left was this crumbling church and the man of god.

His priestly garb was old and worn. These old church benches had collected their fair share of dust. Day after day he upheld his duties. Waiting for the end.

Then the father received a letter. The contents were dark and grave indeed. He was needed and he would be seeing the lord in due time. Those poor children, would he reach them soon enough?

* * *

She couldn't dry her eyes. It hurt. This funeral was for family only. Apparently she didn't count. Yet they couldn't take away the time they spent together.

The dead man was a war hero, the dead man had been a good kid, and the dead man had been a son once, too. All this meant something to the pale faced family members. All that she cared about was that her father was being buried today.

A few month's ago they had been happy. They didn't have much except each other. He wanted to adopt her, so she could stay and grow up to be a doctor like she always wanted. That didn't happen.

So here she was, leaning against this cast Iron fence while the only person who cared for her was lowered six feet below. She was getting out of school in a few days, so it didn't really matter. But it still mattered to her.

Underneath the ground below the last bits of hope she had were laid to rest. Upon her beige flesh was the mark of one condemned to fight a war they could not understand. Yes, she indeed was royally screwed.

* * *

Chris was really, really freaking out. There was fire, and loud noises. They were on a bus right now. Correction, he was driving a bus right now. His mysterious creepy friend was on top of the bus with a gat shooting at Andrew Jackson who was chasing them on horseback. Oh, and Chris didn't even have his license yet.

"How do I stop this thing!"

"Bit busy", Bang- Bang- Bang, "- get avenger to help".

"Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, No!"

"What is it-", she finally realized that they were speeding to their doom, oh and she was bleeding out. To make matters worse she was starting to slip off the roof of the bus. With a prayer in her heart and a roar of defiance to the world she drew her knife and sank the blade into the roof of the moving vehicle. She could hold on, for now.

"Avenger!"

Nothing happened. Then a semi truck came speeding out of nowhere and slammed Andrew Jackson off of the road.

"Get on!"

"I don't know if I can make it . . .",

Her servant flung the door open and leapt out of the moving Semi. In a blur he was already by her side. With a single motion he threw his master over his shoulder. Blood poured from her bullet wound. Her vision was fading; it was all over, too soon.

She was smiling. This was the first time any one had done anything nice for her. It made her feel warm inside to know some one cared. Even if that some one was a heroic spirit on top of a bus headed towards a flaming bridge. It felt nice.

It was at this point Chris just gave up on steering and slammed on the breaks as hard as he could. The tires screeched in protest as the bus steadily came to a halt. Causing Avenger to tumble forward.

The last thing Chris remembered was two hundred plus pounds of Manliness shattering through the window of the bus. Then everything faded to black.


	5. Tempered Hope

It was dark, so very dark. He couldn't see his own hands in front of him. Yet he could hear her. He'd only known her for a few days. Yet it felt like a lifetime. Her dying breaths cut through the silence like shards of glass.

It was so hard to move. It hurt to breath, to think, to exist. Still there was some one just as afraid as he was. It wouldn't do to let them die alone. No, one deserved to die alone. So the scared little boy dragged himself across the jagged ground. Ignoring the pain, the blood, and the fear.

The warmth had fled from her. She was faint, like a photograph fading away. Could she hear him, he didn't know. The scared boy nudged her, she didn't move. "Please wake up", only silence. "Please, please wake up", he pleaded louder to no avail.

It was too dark, too desperate, and they were alone. No, not alone. The boy spoke a bit louder now, even though it hurt. "Please, if you can hear me wake up", silence. The tears, which seeped down his face stung. "Some one, any one, help!", he pleaded into the darkness.

"Avenger, help!", no answer.

The boy fell silent. With an outstretched hand he rapped his fingers around hers. Her pulse kept him company. The boy closed his eyes. "If I must die then so be it, but please, please save her".

She was gone. Though he knew not where. Those delicate fingers slipped through his grip. He was alone, again. Chris could hear her breathing recede into the distance. She was gone, and he didn't even know her name.

* * *

Servant Dossier

Class: Avenger

Master: Rachael Parker

Name: James A. Garfield

Alignment: Neutral Good

Strength: C

Endurance: D

Agility: D

Mana: D-

Luck: C-

**Class Skills:**

Riding: D

**Personal Skills:**

Charisma: B

Millitary Tactics": C-

**Noble Phantasms:**

Blood of the Lamb: C

In life Garfield struggled against corruption, yet only in death did he achieve ultimate victory. His noble phantasm is that his blood has the ability to cleanse corruption and taint.


	6. Prologue

"**There exists a plane outside of human concepts, and within there is the Throne of Heroes. Here, the records of the brave men and women whose lives have become legends are kept, to be used as eternal guardians of mankind. When a legend has been venerated enough by humanity they can become immortalized as a Heroic Spirit that surpasses time itself. However the definition of what is a "hero" is broad – even the ruthless and the heartless are heroes of their own tales" (Tv Tropes)**.

* * *

This world was in peril, because of a D &amp; D game.

What happens when put a hand full of Warlocks together, get them piss drunk, and then leave them to their own infernal devices?

This happens.

One of them gets an S &amp; M from some magical gits and one thing leads to another. Next thing ya know there's a bloody Holy Grail war going on. Well, Holy Bill of Rights war actually. Yes, that's more or less how it happened.

The Mages association is bragging about their Holy Grail war, we can do that too. Just need a bit of third party help is all. What, you say we don't have a Holy Grail? Well I don't see why that should stop us, let's just use the Constitution instead. Too well guarded, we'll use the Bill of Rights. Make a magic copy and no one el be able to tell the difference.

That's more or less how it went down. Minus the creative swearing, donkey, and southern charm that actually went into said operation. Yes, it's true.

Much to the groups Chagrin when they woke surrounding the liberty bell with a colossal hang over, none of them could recall the events of the previous night. Rude Phallic symbols had been scrawled through out the halls of every Manor belonging to a clock tower Lord family, strange ritual circles had been spotted at several public monuments, and several members of congress reported that explicit photo's had mysteriously been uploaded to their personal computers.

The plot thickened of course when the Clave caught wind of all this and dispatched a shadow hunter to deal with this new abhorrent threat. A deal was struck with Aline Penhallow. Should she terminate those responsible for such reprehensible acts then her lover would be able to rejoin society.

Not to be out done the Mage's association decided to dispatch their own agent to bring these criminals, who ever they might be, to justice. They would pay for their insolence.

The net result of all this was that the two most obscenely powerful and corrupt organizations on the planet had embroiled themselves in a minor skirmish that shouldn't have existed in the first place. Then the church got involved.

If only Gilgamesh was here to see this.

* * *

Servant Dossier

Class: Archer

Master: Joe

Name: Andrew Jackson

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Strength: B

Endurance: B++

Agility: C

Mana: D-

Luck: C

**Class Skills:**

Magic Resistance: C

Independent Action: D

**Personal Skills:**

Battle Continuation: A

Bravery: B

Charisma: A-

Expert of Many Specializations: C

**Noble Phantasms:**

Andrew Fucking Jackson: A++

Oh, you know.


	7. Honest Start

**Chapter 1**

Aline found herself walking down the dark streets of Hong Kong, the bad part of Hong Kong. She met a crazy man in the shadows. They became friends. Both of them bonded over the fact that they could see each other.

It was nice to have some one to talk to. Lately things just weren't making sense. Since when did the Clave come to her asking for help? Also their promise to let Helena reenter society seemed too good to be true, because it was.

Still, Helena needed a contact on the outside world. Some one had to gather intelligence and exchange information. So it was that Aline made the sacrifice of being separated from her beloved. She had important things to do, like befriend crazy old men.

"Are you a Werewolf?"

"No"

"Are you a Vampire?"

"No"

"Are you a Mundane?"

"What?"

"You know, a normal person?"

"Define normal"

"Can you see me?"

"Yes"

"That's not normal."

Such was their epic conversation. May all stand amazed by the wisdom of the Nephilim. Aline was so elegant, so beautiful, so unable to filter what was coming out of her mouth. Still, she was very good at what she did. A certain unwelcome guest would give her the opportunity to prove it.

"Stay down and get behind me", she hissed.

To a mundane or any unaware down of its true nature, perhaps the cop would have passed for a human. Aline knew better, and the Old man was too tired to care.

The terrible thing came forward. Its unnatural gait betraying it as it shambled down the alley. Aline drew her blade. If the beast saw her it might run. When shadow hunter and daemon met there could be only one outcome. Aline was ready to use her blade.

Bang- Bang- Silence.

The Demon crumpled to the floor. Sickly black blood oozed from its wounds, how bizarre. Then something fell from above. An imposing figure wrapped in a great coat. Their hands were already stained with dark ichor.

This being fell atop the demon and set upon it with uncanny ferocity. The blows echoed into the distance, like thunder they were. More and more blood sprayed across the ground. The attacker was not satisfied.

The foul monster was lifted up into the air and thrown against a brick wall. With a sickening crack the Demon was embedded into the masonry. Its hunter was relentless, was beyond human. It was something else.

As the Demon stirred the malignant entity drew ever closer. Its steps were methodically steady, tried and true. Aline caught a glimpse of this strangers face. Its hair was wild and its features were noble. With hair the color of steel and eyes, which barely contained the beings smoldering immortal hate, so blue.

The Demon was torn in half. Its viscera splayed across the ground before its remains crumbled to dust. The Demon was finished. Now the Creature was staring at her.

"Master", it growled, "Shall I secede her head from her body?".

"No", answered the Old man.

In the bad part of Hong Kong a shadow hunter, a heroic spirit, and an old man were chilling out. No other demons interrupted them. Then they went into a bar. Thus the prophecy of the most obscure bar joke was full filled.

The bartender said, "Excuse me honored customer. Would you mind coming into a room in the back. A friend of yours is waiting for you".

The old man, who he was talking to, had no friends in this part of the world. Well, except for his new Shadow hunter buddy Aline. He decided to go into the back room any ways.

"WHO DARES DISTURB THE HIGH WARLOCK!", bellowed a magnificent voice.

"You invited me", answered the old man.

"No, I invited her.", responded the Grand Warlock.

Behold the magnificent Magnus Bane. A sparkling example of what a Warlock should be. He'll cast a spell for a price, save the world for the man he loves, and a club isn't a club until it has been graced by his presence. He was Magnus Bane.

The room that the grand Warlock inhabited was small and low key. There was a raised platform with a pole in the center. This was a great room for private discussions, among other things.

"Aline, it's been too long", he said. His voice was rough. These last few weeks had been trying for even the mightiest of Warlocks.

"Magnus?", she gasped.

This touching moment was torn to shreds when Archer entered the room. The waves of madness emanating from the Heroic spirit shattered any and all hope for sanity. Three warm bodies were in the same room as it. That was three too many.

The grand Warlock didn't appear to notice the intrusion. Magnus looked straight past where this monster stood like it wasn't even there. Aline however was not taking it quite as well. The hair stood up on the back of her neck and she was shivering. As if the cold hands of death were here to collect their due.

The Servants casual mannerisms stood in stark contrast to the electric intensity of its eyes. It's eyes jumped back and forth from Magnus to Aline, as if it couldn't decide. Decide what exactly? That was for it to know and them to find out.

The foreplay to a massacre was interrupted when a certain sparkly Warlock asked Aline, "Are you feeling alright, Mrs. Penhallow?"

"Demon", she whispered.

Magnus regarded the Old Man wearily.

The Old man gave no reaction.

"That reminds me", began Magnus, " You are in mortal danger".

Aline paled.

In an uncharacteristic act of kindness, Magnus exposited further " Are you familiar with Mages? They are living weapons that-"

Aline had fainted. How unfortunate. Under different circumstances Magnus would have healed her or helped in some gentle manner, an aspirin perhaps. However it was nearly time to feed Chairman Meow, and Magnus had to keep his priorities straight.

Magnus left after moving Aline's unconscious body to a more comfortable position. Also he sent the old man to Peru using his L33T SUPA H4XOR warlock skillage. Not that that's important or anything.

With nothing better to do, Archer went for a walk.

* * *

Servant Dossier

Class: Saber

Master: Aline Penhallow

Name: Abraham Lincoln

Alignment: Lawful Good

Strength: A

Endurance: B

Agility: B

Mana: C

Luck: D

**Class Skills:**

Magic Resistance: A

A high Magic resistance is an intrinsic property of the Saber Class.

Riding: E

Riding is also an intrinsic property of the Saber Class, unfortunately Saber wasn't known for their riding ability

**Personal Skills:**

Bravery: C

Nearly all servants can stand adversity; Saber is exceptional in their ability to resist corruption brought on by power.

Charisma: A-

Saber transcended expectations by holding a nation together against all odds.

**Noble Phantasms:**

Emancipation "Land of the Free!" : D

This nation created by the people; for the people shall never perish from this earth, and in the name of all those who died for this great nation, freedom will forever reign. Saber has the ability to remove any bondage regardless of its origins.


	8. ClockTower Princess

**Chapter 2 **

Aline asked herself a lot of questions in her life. Did she like boys? Was she doing the right thing? Why was she in a speeding car?

Okay, maybe that last one was new.

" Don't worry, you're going to be safe", said Emma.

Oh, that explains it.

It was bright out, was it daytime? Where were they?

As Aline's eyes adjusted to the light she took note of her surroundings. Everything was so fuzzy, it was hard too think, and there were bloodstains on the upholstery.

She pulled herself up enough to see out the window. There was grass, lots of it. They weren't in China any more. Also they were driving on the wrong side of the road. Hopefully this meant they were in Europe, yet when Emma was driving you could never be sure.

Hold on, why were they in Europe?

"Emma, where are we?", croaked Aline.

"Germany", responded Emma.

That answered one question, and brought up countless more.

Aline had so many questions. Yet she was so tired. What was the harm in napping a little longer?

She awoke to the smell of burning petrol. Her clothes stuck tightly to her. They were sticky with blood, and none of it was hers.

Amidst the flames a figure stood. The silhouette of something not quite a man was barely visible to her.

Aline spat out a bit of blood, now some of it was hers. Images fluttered before her eyes. Was she lost in the forest again? Was she dreaming? Where was Jace? Where was Emma?

Aline prayed. Then she screamed. At long last she stood on her two feet. She was Aline Penhallow, and she wasn't afraid any more.

"Show yourself!", she roared with all the fury of a lioness.

The flames flickered. She saw wreckage, and blood. But where were the bodies?

A hand shot out from the edge of her vision. She twisted around as fast a she could. It was not fast enough.

First her ribcage gave, then her organs, and then blood drenched the sizzling pavement. Aline didn't even blink. She kept her eyes on this monster. Even if it killed her, she had to know.

She saw kind eyes filled to the brim with empathy for their fellow man. Their face was scarred by time, scarred by carrying the weight of the world. Every wrinkle, and every line told of a struggle. This was her enemy, and Aline couldn't help but notice the arrows sticking out of their back.

Black spots, sputtering movement, Aline's vision was shot. These moments were . . . passing. Yet she knew something no one else did. If she could still move her lips, she would be smiling.

Poor Aline thought she saw Alec shooting the monster with his bow. Everything was so fuzzy, like a dream. Yet she also could have sworn she saw Jace there as well. Had her knight in shining armor come to rescue her?

Thirty seconds left. For about twenty-eight of them she saw Clary Fray. She was bent over her. She liked Clary, such a nice person. Then everything went dark again. The lights went out and the battle dimmed.

Then the lights came back on again, the lights of Magnus's apartment. Well Magnus and Alec's apartment if you wanted specifics.

The TV was on, she was wrapped in a blanket, and all her friends were here. Also her intestines were back inside of her chest, that one was a nice touch. Aline should have been happy, in fact she was happy, its just that something was missing.

Aline closed her eyes. She imagined a place oh so very far away. It was a cold, desolate and frigid place. It was where she most wanted to be, by her lover's side.

"Helen"

* * *

It was nighttime in Germany. It had been so for a very, very long time. It would stay so for a while longer.

"Lancer, I don't think the Clock Tower has been entirely honest with us", suggested Luviagelita Edelfelt.

Her servant gave a weary smile.

"I would have to agree with you", he said.

Then a wheel chair appeared which her servant fell into.

"So . . .", began Luvia. She didn't finish her sentence though. Neither of them had any idea about what to do next. Perhaps they should go bug Rin.

* * *

Servant Dossier

Class: Lancer

Master: Luviagelita Edefelt

Name: Franklin Delano Roosevelt

Alignment: Lawful Neutral

Strength: B

Endurance: E

Agility: C-

Mana: D

Luck: C

**Class Skills:**

Magic Resistance: A

A high Magic resistance is an intrinsic property of the Lancer Class.

Battle Continuation: A++

Lancer subdued Polio; lead a nation standing on their two feet, and in the end the only opponent capable of getting the better of them was death.

**Personal Skills:**

Eye of the Mind (True): C+

Lancer is an experienced campaigner and they welcome a challenge. If there is even the smallest chance of victory then they still have a chance of winning.

Charisma: B++

Lancer's voice was powerful enough to capture the heart of a nation.

Bravery: B

Lancer doesn't give up. Lancer isn't afraid. Lancer just doesn't give a fuck.

**Noble Phantasms:**

Will of a Nation "Iron Will": Lancer is able to stand and fight like any other servant despite his condition. This is accomplished through sheer force of will. Once the battle is over Lancer must return to their wheel chair.

New Deal "Doing the Impossible": When a nation was brought to it's knees, Lancer answered the call. When the fate of the world hung in the balance, Lancer answered the call. Lancer is able to re write the laws of reality in order to do what needs to be done.

Berserkang "Wrath of the Scottish Terrier": If some one insults Fala then Roosevelt can temporarily activate an A rank mad enhancement. Wears off after several hours or once all hostiles are eliminated.


	9. Lone Star

**Chapter 3 **

Luvia had just arrived in Texas. Why Texas? Well its where Rin is silly. If Rin Tohsaka thought she could hide from the Great Hyen- err, I mean Huntress, then she was dearly mistaken. Everbody knows you can't run from a Fin with a gun. While Luvia might not have had a gun she did have something just as deadly. The Gandr spell.

Right now Luvia was lugging around a massive dog Kennel with all the delicacy and grace of a fashionista carrying a hand bag. This got a few wayward looks from the casual passer by, but Luvia didn't care. She had more important things on her mind. Like figuring out where El Passo was.

It wasn't until she had left the air port that she had an ephiphany. She'd forgotten to bring any mony or clothes with her. The latter wasn't much of a problem since she always wore the same thing everyday. The former however could make things . . . difficult.

Eight hours and 26 milles later , Luvia was starting to feel a tiny bit tired. She hadn't eaten for a few day's and the lack of water in the Desert was starting to make her a little worried.

Thankfully some kind soul in an old pick up truck stopped to give her a lift. They motioned for her to hop in the back. After a moment's hesitation she accuesed to their request.

There was a fully loaded M60 in the back of the truck. In most other area's of the civilized world this might be considered some what out of the ordinary. However this was texas. No, what was strange was that Luvia could sense that the machine gun was carrying blessed rounds. Huh, to each their own she supposed.

Several hours passed before she came to her final destination.

"Is here a good spot?", asked the kind soul.

"Yeah, here's a good spot"

As Luvia hopped out of the truck with her Kennel in tow, she gave a parting glance towards this noble stranger.

The man wasn't too old yet neither was he young. He had close cropped hair and a long rugged black beard. That beat up leather Jacket of his was as well worn as his body. Luvia couldn't help but wonder if at one time perhaps he might have been considered attractive. The kind souls skin had a rather unique skin tone. Was he of Porti Rican descent or something else? Luvia couldn't tell and it didn't matter. All she knew was that this Texan had spared her from a long and harrowing Journey.

"Thank you", she said to this stranger.

Two kind souls met upon their wayward path's. Each Unaware of the trials ahead. One of Iron. One of fire. They went apart again. They had not met before this day, yet in similar struggles were they forged. Oh cold and Ice, or blistering heat, why were these two heroes born?

They did not know and could not know of the trials that lay ahead. Yet upon another uneventfull day, iron and fire would meet again.

* * *

Many mile's away some one not much younger then Luvia stood by a grave. A grave which belonged to her true father, Carlos Turner. They may not have been connected by blood. It didn't matter to her.

He had raised her, he was going to adopt her, and he was gone. Their lives had been filled with a lot of if's. If only he wasn't disabled, if only she wasn't illegal, and if only he could convince social services.

Now that he was gone their were no more if's. The light had departed from her world. That should have been the end of it. Instead fate had offered her a cruel mercy, hope.

Hope came in the form of a man with a knife. A Servent to fight in a war she couldn't understand. She hoped and prayed her father could forgive her for this. If only it were so easy.

* * *

Servant Dossier

Class: Berserker

Master: Samantha Turner

Name: Theodore Roosevelt

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Strength: A+

Endurance: A

Agility: A

Mana: A

Luck: D

**Class Skills:**

Madness Enhancement: B

At the cost of Berserker's sanity their already exceptional ranks have been boosted even further.

Riding: A-

Berserker can ride any thing and any one, man made or otherwise. Not even phantasmal beast's are safe from Berserker.

**Personal Skills:**

Expert of many Specilizations: C

It is much easier to list what Berserker didn't do in life then to list their many accomplishments. This skill has been reduced two ranks due to Berserker's Madness Enhancements.

**Noble Phantasms:**

Death in Glory " The Battle of San Juan Hill": C

The Rough Rider's are summoned to take part in one last Charge.

Remembrence "Forgive Me": E

The dead are permitted to make amends, because death is too scarred to try and stop Roosevelt.

American Dream "Be all you can be": D

Every one within thrity meter's of Roosevelt is boosted to the rank of A Class heroic spirit, to make it a fair fight.

Bully! "Speak softly and Carry A Bigger Stick": B

The white fleet arrive's to share Roosevelt's foreign policy with the enemy.


	10. Throne of Patriots

**Chapter 4**

Okay, so it was a Tuesday and Abraham Lincoln was reading fifty shades of Gray. Part of Jace's "recommended reading" for catching up with the modern age. Oh, also Aline is a master now. That happened.

Magnus was planning how they could win this Holy Grail war. Whether this was out of the good of his own heart, or to get Aline off the couch is up for debate. Yet amongst a sea of variables and unknowns they knew one thing for certain, things were about to get interesting.

**Mean while in New Jersey . . .**

"Stand still so I can kill you!"

"How about, no", responded Luvia Politely.

This girl was pressing her luck. Didn't she realize she was assaulting the forklift lady, a master of Lancashire wrestling? Didn't she realize * sound of back breaking *, well she knows now.

A teenage girl was now writhing on the ground in pain. Then a big white van slammed through several walls to collide into Luvia. It was super effective!

"Raaaaaaagh!", announced the vehicles occupant.

Luvia got up, brushed off some dust, and tore off her sleeves. It was so on.

The ensuing scuffle fractured steel beams, nearly leveled a number of dance clubs, and made Luvia work up a sweat. After some time the cops arrived. Then the cops called for back up. Then the back up arrived, and every one shat their pants. It was a bloody mess.

Soon the National Guard had to be called in. Then all of the other masters started showing up out of the woodwork to get in on the action. Then all hell broke loose, on a Tuesday.

**Mean while at the Ministry of Magic . . .**

"Excuse me Minister fudge, some serious matters have been brought to our attention"

"Yes, yes what is it? Did the French abduct one of our national heroes again?"

"No, actually there's been another Holy Grail war-"

"Bloody Japs, didn't I warn them. When I get my hands on the Clock Tower."

"Actually the Clock Tower is British sir"

"Oh"

"Also the war is in America"

"I see"

"They've summoned George Washington"

"Ready my power armor"

**New Jersey, later that day . . . **

Casualties: 0

Property Damage: 260 million

Watching Heroic spirits, Mages, Shadow hunters, and sociopaths fight TO THE DEATH, priceless.

Welcome one and all to New Jersey, the happiest state on earth. To your left you'll notice what's left of the business district. To your right you can see Abraham Lincoln performing a choke slam on Andrew Jackson. If you think this is exciting you should have been here last St. Patrick's day. They had to call in the National Guard just to help clean up all the party balloons and dead leprechauns. Good times man, good times.

On a less incriminating note the battle for New Jersey continued to heat up. Above the city streets a group of shadow hunters were desperately trying to out run a president pulling off par core in a wheel chair. Simon had tried to slow their pursuer down, and gotten slammed off of a three-story building for his trouble. F.D.R. was burning rubber!

The sun was setting, the fires raged, and the forklift lady had once more met her match. Against other opponents Luvia could absorb their blows while slowly whittling down their endurance before closing in for the kill. That wouldn't work against Berserker.

Luvia should have been winning this fight. He was no Hercules, no, he was Teddy Roosevelt the manliest heroic spirit of them all. His endurance was legendary, and some one gave him a hunting knife.

Needless to say Luvia didn't stand a chance. Bit by bit, step by step she was losing the fight. It was only a matter of time before it got lucky. The Clock towers finest kept on getting pushed back until she had nowhere else to run. Then Berserker got lucky.

The first strike was easy to dodge. It was the backhand that caught her and sent her flying into a petrol station. Black and red splattered across the pavement, Berserker charged, and Luvia gave a smile worthy of Rin herself.

"Gandr!"

**West Virginia Warlock Coven . . . **

"Hey Dave, where did you put the Pizza"

"Bottom of the fridge, right next to the demon blood samples"

"Thanks Bro"

It was a day like any other for several warlocks of disrepute in West Virginia, then zombie Green Berets attacked.

The lights flickered and the building shook. Several Warlocks checked to see if some one had snuck some powerful hallucinogen into their weed. Also the brownies had caught fire, son of a- BoooM!

With a thunderous crack a hole was torn in the side of the kitchen. White phosphorous grenades released their payload, hiding the invaders from their sight. One of the Warlocks had the bright idea of using Witch light to help illuminate the scene. Then the lights went out.

Through the smoke and the haze walked the living dead. Their armaments still stuck in their cold dead hands. M16's, AKMs, M72 LAWs, M1 Garands, M60s, Thumpers, and a few shotguns snuck in for good measure.

" Zombies? I thought they didn't exist"

"That's Mummies Tucker"

"Oh"

The smoke cleared and the warlocks found themselves surrounded. The undead had an overwhelming numerical advantage. What kills a human kills a Warlock and most people tend to die when they are killed.

"Tucker ask them what they want"

"Dave, isn't it obvious they want our brains"

"These are proud American heroes Dave. They want the hearts and minds of the enemy, not us"

"Aren't we the "enemy" right now?"

"No Dave, even though their pointing guns at us their enemy is Charlie"

"Then why don't we just give them Charlie when he gets back from taking a piss?"

Dave face palmed, Dave's razor sharp talons made this course of action look rather painful. In the mean time one of the Arisen veterans walked forward. In a deep gravely tone it spoke.

"The Bill of rights, or your life. Executive orders"

Then JFK came into the room covered in blood. The zombies saluted and made way for the President of the United Sates. The Warlocks were understandably confused. Then JFK started beating them senseless.

**New Jersey, Upon the break of day . . .**

It was dark and warm. Luvia could taste something coppery. Where was she? Why could she smell Rin's perfume? Wasn't she supposed to be dead?

Shirou Emiya.

A selfless hero who didn't die when killed. The Hero who saved everyone, even if he had to break the rules of space and time to do so, even if he had to die. No, he wasn't dead yet. Then again it was hard to figure out when that boy was truly dead.

That idiot had leapt on top of Luvia at the last moment to shield her from the encroaching flames. What a fool. Now she was unconscious, he was about to die, and berserker was waking up.

He wasn't worried though. Saber had come with him. Time to show them what a real Heroic spirit looks like.

Bersker got up. In a blur he went back down. Something, some one had come out of nowhere and struck him. A glitter of steel, a war cry, gallons of blood, it was too fast for any mortal to see. In a single strike Arturia Pendragon had cut her opponent in twain. The blood of the president swam across the desecrated ruins.

Roosevelt didn't die straight away. No, instead this had granted him a brief moment of clarity. Madness was kept at bay in these last final moments. Time wouldn't stand still yet death kept its distance for the time being. Last time it had stolen him while he was sleeping, it didn't want to chance coming upon him while he was awake.

"Alice?", murmured teddy.

Tears came through. Saber turned around to hear the dead man speak.

"Alice, Forgive me", whispered Teddy.

Then Theodore gave up the ghost. It was done.

**West Virginia Warlock Coven, Several unconscious Warlocks Later . . .**

"Thank you very much for your assistance", said JFK.

He had found the Bill of Rights, he was covered in Garfield's blood from earlier, it was time to end this.

**New Jersey, Early Morning . . . **

Fires burned and Iron bent, beneath the risen sun two enemies met, yet fate would never bring them together again.

Shriou had helped Luvia walk despite being near death himself. She was tired, nearly out of mana, and partially deaf. She hadn't gotten this thrashed since the last time she fought Rin.

Across the field of rubble and shattered memories stood a familiar stranger. Old Man Joe, the man who had given her a ride, he was the Master of Archer. His Jacket was gone along with his shirt and most of his pants. Sweat dripped from every pour of his toned body. Every muscle was visible in the light of the newborn day.

Luvia looked at him in disbelief, Joe responded in kind.

"Thanks for the ride earlier"

"No problem", responded Joe.

Then Cornelius Fudge dropped in from above. Waves of energy spun wildly from his jet-black armor. The heavy mail was covered in shimmering runes and all the Badass regalia that the Ministry had the power to grant. In silver letters across the chest was written, "Magic is Might". Home daddy fudge was about to lay the smack down.

Old man Joe and Luvia exchanged looks. Then they nodded to each other and the battle was joined. Even in a near dead state Luvia was still a dangerous opponent and you wouldn't like Joe when he's Angry.

Breaths as steady as the tide, a fire burning in their eyes, and a thousand reasons not to give up. Heroes of Humanity arise!

"Gandr!", cried Luvia

"FUCK!", Screamed Joe as lightning shot from his finger tips.

The magic rebounded off of Fudges substantial magical reinforcements. Fire swirled around this dark knight and lightning turned the neighboring ground to glass. Yet the Minister of Magic was unbroken.

Then Saber showed up and Shirou got over the whole nearly being dead thing. Just like Spartacus the closer to death he got the more of a bad ass he became. Near dead Shirou is the most collectable of all Shirou's.

"Unlimited Blade Work!"

"Excalibur!"

A blinding flash of light, a deadening Cacophony, and much Win erupted forth and wiped Minister Fudge from the fabric of reality. The earth was nearly destroyed; however on the other side of the planet some blue haired girl had caught wind of this fuckery and had her friend use a shiny crystal thing to save the world. Also there were cats there for some reason, talking cats.

Shortly after that the Shadow hunters arrived and fell on the ground in a huge pile. They were exhausted and couldn't run away from FDR any more. Luvia was done fighting so she told Lancer to stand down and not brutally murder all of the strangely dressed teens.

Then President Washington showed up on a white horse.

"Children of Liberty you have done well", he then glanced over at Luvia and Shirou, "You guys are cool too I guess."

Then Washington dismounted to give Saber a Brofist.

Then Lincoln showed up. "How about we clean up this place then throw a party to celebrate us not brutally killing each other!".

Every one readily agreed and they started fixing up the city. Then they partied like no tomorrow. It was glorious, Roosevelt and Jackson were still dead, but the party was still awesome!

**West Virginia Warlock Coven, the end . . . **

The blood of the martyr ran down the Bill of rights, it was over. So much pain and misery finally came to an end. No more death, no more torment, now they were free and no one would ever know of the sacrifices they made upon that day for freedom. All because of those dumb mother F****** that called themselves warlocks!

If there was ever a Holy Bill of Rights war part two Kennedy vowed he would make those responsible pay for their crimes. Death would be too kind, their punishment would be much more severe. Rest assured it would include a sack of Honey badgers, Hugh Jackman, and Maid Costumes.

"It ends", whispered Kennedy.

This time he died on his own terms, this time he had a choice, this time . . . . this time. Whatever may come be it Magus or other wise he knew Americans would stand ready to answer the call. Yet it was not a burden for America to bear alone. It was a call to all the citizens of the world, a cry against the darkness that threatened to engulf us all, and a final stand against the shadows.

Kennedy died peacefully as the bindings that constrained him to this earth gently faded away. Everything must eventually come to an end.


End file.
